User blog:Thantosiet/Power Rangers: Lost Ninjas/Episode 26: Vigilante Intervention
Last time we saw the Ethereal Ninjas... The trio was hiding in the mountains, Kerri unconscious thanks to her faulty morpher, Easton still recovering from Reggie's interrogation. As the other two fell asleep, Dreamsnare resurrected traumas from their pasts (noting that Easton's was worse than he consciously knew) to terrorize them, but Kerri was able to fend him off. February 14th, Tauza's Ship, Japanese Airspace, 9:45 pm "Is something bothering you, Reggie?" Tauza asked, from where she stood watching the Snipers pilot. Several screens showed the Ethereal Megazord flying ahead of them. The Megazord was just passing over the black smudges of Japan's westernmost islands. Reggie sat nearby, fiddling with his suruchin, and at Tauza's words, he looked up. "I don't understand vy ve don't simply blow ze Rangers out of ze sky." Tauza nodded approvingly. "Fair question. Their next logical course of action would be to get the Diamond Morpher repaired, so they'll go to whoever is capable of creating them, leading us directly to someone who can build a new set of morphers for us—or at least sabotage theirs, perhaps give yours an upgrade." "I see," Reggie replied, with a grin. Tauza turned towards him, looking him up and down. Her face wasn't very expressive, but her brow furrowed slightly. "How long have you been awake?" Reggie twirled one of the suruchin's metal balls, not looking at her. "I'm fine." "More than likely we'll engage in battle some time tomorrow, and you should be prepared," Tauza replied. "You should rest." Reggie shrugged and rose, coiling the suruchin cord. "If you insist. Oh, I almost forgot—can ve do somezing about ze teleport system? It vould be more effective if ve could teleport people here by force." "Another reason to find someone with the technological prowess to build morphers. The ship's original architect is long gone." "Fine. Good night, zen." He turned, waved and walked off the bridge. February 15th, Ōme, Tokyo Metropolis, Japan, 7:08 pm Shotaro Ishinomori sat at his desk, looking over a blueprint. He lowered his glasses, so he could see through the top halves of his bifocals. He shook his head, speaking Japanese. "First cellphones, now sunglasses. What's next, gun morphers? Action figures?" Then he paused. His wrinkled brow furrowed. "That's actually an intriguing idea." Opening a drawer, he drew out a notepad and jotted it down in spidery hiragana. Someone banged hard on the front door, and Ishinomori looked up. He sighed in exasperation, and put the plans away, locking the drawer. The knocking continued. "Ishinomori!" A man shouted from outside. "Open the door!" Ishinomori padded bare-footed across the carpet, and opened the door. There stood several large men in cheap suits. The smallest and meanest-looking one stepped forward, arms folded, and glared at the older man. "Mr. Owada wants his money." "I don't remember Mr. Owada doing anything for me," Ishinomori replied. "Let me remind you," the other man replied, and snapped his fingers. One of the thugs behind him held up a crowbar and smashed in one of Ishinomori's windows. Glass tinkled to the floor inside, and the man stepped back once more. Ishinomori merely quirked a bushy eyebrow. "As I told Mr. Owada before, I don't need his 'protection.' Please go away and never return." "You're going to be sorry," the man in charge warned. Ishinomori's gaze flicked up towards the roof of the opposite building. Just for a second, he glimpsed what looked like a queue of black hair ripple behind a chimney. Returning his attention to the thugs, he merely stepped back inside. "Please don't return. Your repetitiveness is becoming very tiresome." He closed his door on the men, shook his head, and went back to his work. He'd clean up the broken glass later. Right now he had to work out how to fit morphing technology into a pair of sunglasses. Not fifteen minutes later, Ishinomori heard voices—not Owada's men, teenagers. With an irritated mutter, he put everything back. But as he paid closer attention to the sound, he paused. They were speaking English. "Are you sure this is the right place?" A girl asked, in a dubious tone. "This is the address we had in the files," a boy replied, though he too sounded uncertain. "How about we check instead of standing around talking?" A second girl, this one with what sounded like a Scottish or Irish accent, said. There was a firm knock on the door. Ishinomori rose again, putting everything away. He still didn't like the sound of this, but at least it was a new interruption. Walking to the door, he opened it, and saw three Caucasian teenagers in battered but unmistakable Ethereal Ninja uniforms. They exchanged looks, and the boy stepped forward, giving a quick bow. "Judging by the state of your uniforms, and the fact that you've come unannounced, I'm guessing this isn't just a friendly visit, Easton Lewis," Ishinomori said. The teenager looked surprised. "Sensei Ngapoi's told me a lot about you. I suspected you'd become a Ranger someday. Who are these two?" "These are Susana Callaghan, and Kerri Long," the boy said, gesturing to each of his companions in turn. "The Diamond Morpher is damaged." The black-haired girl beside him fumbled in her pocket, and drew out a familiar white ball banded with gold. Ishinomori took it, and ran a thumb over the crack. "We were hoping you could repair it, since it's your work." After a moment's study, Ishinomori nodded once, and stepped back out of the doorway. "Come in and explain how you broke it. I imagine it's a long story," he said, not taking his eyes off the morpher. "Oh, and mind the broken glass." "What happened to your window?" Susana asked, as the trio avoided the mess. "Local thugs trying to force me into a protection racket. It's nothing," Ishinomori said with a dismissive gesture, sitting down at his desk once more. The trio exchanged looks, sitting on the floor behind the man. "We can deal with them for you," Easton offered. "That won't be necessary," Ishinomori replied, examining the Diamond Morpher under a magnifying glass. "Well, we are the Power Rangers, dealing with bad guys is kind of our thing," Kerri said, with a little laugh. "They've already been dealt with." Kerri cocked her head to one side, charms jingling. "Huh?" "Check the television. The news is on channel eleven," was all Ishinomori said. He nodded to the little TV perched on a nearby shelf. After a moment of awkward hesitation, Susana stood and turned the television on. They found the news almost immediately—a woman stood in front of a cordoned-off section of street, talking very quickly in Japanese. "Archer? Is that what she said?" Kerri asked. "I heard her say Archer." "That's what it sounded like," Susana replied. She sucked in a sharp breath as the camera changed view, showing what was behind the police tape. Several men lay scattered across the street, arrows sticking out of their bodies. "What is it?" Kerri asked. "I don't echolocate well with cheap TV's." Ishinomori snorted. "Echolocate?" "I'm basically blind as a bat without my glasses. Cataracts, see?" Kerri pointed to her clouded eyes. Ishinomori didn't quite know how to respond to that. ". . . I think you heard the 'archer' part right," Easton said at last. "That's what she calls herself," Ishinomori said. "She's been hunting down criminals for about . . . almost six months now." "Should I be impressed or terrified?" Susana asked, after a moment. "Unless you intent to embark on a life of crime, you have no reason to fear her. Now, can we please get back to the business at hand?" "Right," Easton said, switching the TV off. "Have you ever heard of a space ninja named Tauza?" February 16th, Kabe Station, Ōme, 3:14 am "I'm sorry," the man begged in Japanese, scrambling back until he hit the wall. He was almost crying, and his once-fine suit was torn and dirty. "Please, I'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt me!" Archer stepped forward, kicking aside a briefcase. A train roared past, snatching paper yen out of the briefcase and scattering them in the air like confetti. The same wind tugged at the animal skins she wore as clothing, and her long black queue of hair. Around her lay the bodies of the old man's bodyguards, each killed with a single arrow—except for one, pinned to a wall by his coat. Gazing down at the grey-haired man, Archer pulled an arrow out of the quiver on her back. Police sirens wailed in the distance. "A few months ago, I helped a chef get rid of a set of thugs, like the men who work for you, Owada," she said in the same language, running a finger down the shaft. "In exchange, he gave me a batch of bad fugu, which I used to poison arrows like this one." She set the arrow on the string, and drew back. "I save them for the scum who deserve to suffer. I've gotten a wide variety of reactions to it—mental impairment, vomiting, paralysis, seizures, suffocation—although nearly all of them stay conscious, even lucid, to the bitter end. Death will be a blessing when it arrives." "Please," the man pleaded. "I-I'll go straight, I swear!" "And why should I trust the word of a rat like you?" Archer asked. "I'll turn myself in! For pity's sake—" "Pity?" Archer let out a harsh laugh. "You'll get the same pity you showed to the Tomoe family, or Kaname Gotou, or Kita Akemi." She closed one eye, taking aim at the man's left hand as he cringed. Then she hesitated. The police sirens grew louder, and the lights glittered in the distance. The fifty-some man sobbed like a child, curled up to shield himself. With a horrible start, she realized she'd enjoyed the mob boss's groveling. She'd gone too far, again. Drawing in a sharp breath, she lowered the bow. Owada noticed, and looked up at her with wide, unblinking eyes. A police car rounded the corner, and men spilled out the doors, drawing guns. Archer glanced at them, and then back at her prisoner. He was starting to look relieved—drawing back a leg, she front-kicked him directly in the face, feeling his nose break under her foot. He fell back with a howl, clutching his bleeding face. "Count yourself lucky," Archer said, putting her arrow back in its quiver. "If you cause any further trouble, this arrow has your name on it." She turned back to the one other living crook, suspended partway up the wall by her arrow through the back of his coat. He froze as she faced him. Reaching up, Archer ripped the arrow out, letting him drop to the pavement. "Make this your last, as well as your first, crime. Don't let me see you with this kind of trash again." As one of the cops shouted for her to stand down, Archer crouched and leaped, catching an overhanging balcony. With the grace of a gymnast, she flipped herself onto the balcony and leaping from there to the roof, sprinting away from the alley. Owada dealt with, Archer headed away from Tokyo. The criminal underground had to have gotten word of her by now; she could turn in early and let them squirm for the rest of the night. She'd slipped with Owada, and didn't want to risk doing it again. A break would help clear her head. As she reached the outskirts of the district, Archer paused on the roof of Ishinomori's house. She'd been monitoring the place, to make sure Owada's men didn't try to retaliate against the man. It was quiet and peaceful. Just as Archer was about to leave, she heard a soft thunk. Freezing in place, she studied the dark street below. Ishinomori's door was ajar, swinging in the breeze. Something was wrong here. As she watched, the door creaked open. Archer nocked an arrow to the string and fired into the doorway. The arrow vanished, and something heavy thumped against the doorpost. Just for a moment, Archer saw violet scales gleaming in the darkness, and black blood around the shaft of her arrow. Then it vanished again, and Ishinomori appeared out of nowhere, crumpling to the ground. Archer stood, drawing a second arrow, and looked around for the distortion. She heard a faint patter, like footsteps, and whirled—only to get smacked in the face by something thick and scaly. She stumbled back, dropping the arrow, and the invisible creature slashed at her midsection. Razor-sharp claws gashed her bare stomach, and she doubled over with a grunt of pain. Before the monster could move in for the kill, Archer somersaulted forward, snatched her arrow up again, and had it on the string. Swiveling, she fired, and again saw a flash of scales as the arrow struck home, far too close to her. The creature slammed bodily into her, knocking her flat. "You're in my way," a cold, reptilian voice hissed, as Archer struggled to free herself. She saw the outline of a three-clawed talon rise over her head. Before it could drop, a volley of shuriken struck the monster's limb, drawing sparks and spurts of black blood. The monster reared back, giving Archer enough room to wriggle free. As she found her footing again, the creature became fully visible: a six-limbed violet lizard the size of a small truck. Three Power Rangers stepped up on either side of Archer, striking fighting stances. "Are you all right?" The Gold (and only male) Ranger asked in English, glancing at her. Archer clamped an arm over her still-bleeding stomach wounds, and nodded. She'd been in worse pain, but didn't feel up to speaking just yet. "Projection Blade! We'll take care of this guy," the Sapphire Ranger said, drawing a sword from the air. "Finally!" The Diamond Ranger exclaimed. "Sound Slicers!" A pair of kusarigama appeared in her hands, and she whirled the sickle-like weapons. With a whoop, she charged, slashing at the monster. It slithered out of the way, but she managed to nick its tail. The Sapphire Ranger followed a second later, running to cut off the lizard's escape. As its tail swung towards her, she leaped over it, stabbing downwards. The energy blade sank into the monster's body, and the lizard howled in agony, double rows of fangs bared. "Morning Star!" Swinging a spiked club, the Gold Ranger kicked off a chimney and slammed weapon-first into the creature. The resulting burst of fire threw him flat, also downing the monster. It staggered, claws scrabbling on the concrete roof. As the three Rangers moved in for the kill, however, the monster turned invisible again. The Diamond Ranger kept going, but Sapphire and Gold hesitated. The pause was a mistake. Abruptly, the Gold Ranger was flung off his feet and slammed flat. Archer saw the monster's head outlined against the sky as it reared up over him, jaws wide as if to bite off his head. In the brief pause, Archer straightened—it hurt, but she gritted her teeth and ignored it—and drew an arrow. Hooking her foot under her bow, she kicked it back into her grip, aimed and fired, all in the time it takes to sneeze. The arrow whistled over the struggling Gold Ranger and struck the monster in the throat. It turned visible again with an agonized, gurgling howl, and released him. With a whoop, the Diamond Ranger slammed feet-first into the creature, knocking it down. She dropped into a crouch and slashed at it, her Sapphire teammate following suit. Archer ran forward and caught the Gold Ranger as he started to rise. Pulling him upright with a grunt, she reached back for another arrow, but there was no need. With one final shriek, the purple lizard exploded, showering everyone with violet dust and tarry black blood. Silence fell as the glittering dust settled. The Diamond Ranger picked herself up, and looked at her messy weapons with a noise of disgust. Catching his breath, the Gold Ranger turned to Archer. "Thank you. Are you all right?" He asked. The bleeding wasn't stopping or even slowing down. Archer nodded anyway: she'd taken care of herself before, and she could again. However, the Sapphire Ranger came closer, looking her up and down. "I don't think so. Come with us, we know someone who doesn't ask too many questions," she said. Archer shook her head, but the Diamond Ranger caught her by the upper arm. "Don't be stubborn—besides, we owe you for catching the monster before we did." After a moment's hesitation, Archer nodded, and let the Rangers lead her down the fire escape. She was curious about these new warriors, after all. Category:Blog posts Category:Power Rangers: Lost Ninjas